


Prayer for the Fallen

by Waning_Grace



Series: The Season 13 Collection [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Post-Episode: s13e22 Exodus, Praying to Gabriel, Season/Series 13 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 02:31:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16232399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waning_Grace/pseuds/Waning_Grace
Summary: Sam never imagined he'd have to watch Gabriel die not once, but twice. “You should have run, Gabriel.” Sam says, words resigned and heavy with guilt.  For all the miraculous things Sam’s done in his life thus far he can no more change what happened than Gabriel can and it, for lack of better word, sucks.





	Prayer for the Fallen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keylimepie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keylimepie/gifts).



> This is set post 13x22: Exodus and contains spoilers for that episode. Shout-out to keylimepie for pushing me to finish this!

 

“You should have run.” The words pop out before Sam realizes, or can even stop them, spoken in a harsh near-whisper to the blank expanse of his bedroom ceiling. It’s hardly a way to start what was originally set out to be a prayer but considering the intended recipient is dead and unlikely to hear it in the first place, where’s the harm? It’s not like any of the words are wrong; they aren’t. Gabriel _should_ have run. For as much as it was heartening to see Gabriel finally taking a stand rather than flee like he would have before, Sam also wishes he hadn’t. What was the point when he ended up dead in the end? Who did he think he was fooling? Had Gabriel really been foolish enough to think he could take on Michael and _win_? It wasn’t hard for Sam to see how weak, how drained the angel had been, so surely to someone as strong as Michael it had been clear as a bell.

 

“You should have run, Gabriel.” Sam repeats like a broken record only this time the words are resigned. For all the miraculous things Sam’s done in his life thus far he can no more change what happened than Gabriel can and it, for lack of better word, sucks. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.” And wasn’t that an understatement if there ever was one? In hindsight he wishes that he and Dean had thought to bring Gabriel’s vessel back through the portal with them at the very least. They didn’t have time; it— _he_ —wasn’t close enough to grab without getting in the line of fire themselves but it was still hard to escape the guilt that bloomed up over the reminder. Gabriel’s vessel may have been nothing more than a body crafted in the image of Loki, but regardless Gabriel deserved better than to be left forgotten on some forest floor in the middle of the apocalypse world.

 

“Nobody would have thought any less of you. _I_ wouldn’t have thought any less of you.” Sam sighs, the sound echoing in the quiet confines of his bedroom. He shifts onto his side though staring at the plainness of his wall isn’t any better than staring at his ceiling had been. Someday he really needs to invest in some posters, or pictures, or something to brighten up the space with. “What about the promise you made? Huh?” He asks the room at large, his voice quiet as agony and something else sharp-edged shift deep within him. “Did you even mean what you said to me at the camp?”

 

_It hadn’t taken long for Gabriel to corner Sam after he’d finally managed to get a moment alone after his disastrous entrance into the camp. Sam had been standing in the middle of the cabin he had been directed to, staring down at the bundle of clothing that had been handed to him, when he heard the creak of the door opening. Even now Sam cringed at the memory of how he had reacted: he hadn’t thought, hadn’t paused, just turned around with his knife pulled and lunged towards whoever it was in pure, blind terror. He’d be damned if he let the devil get the jump on him again, he’d go down fighting first, and so had barely registered the body he was tackling was a lot smaller than Lucifer’s vessel before they both crashed onto the floor._

_They’d hit with a thump and the next few moments were lost in a flurry of flailing limbs and grunts and groans before the sudden sound of chuckling broke out. It was jarring enough that it knocked Sam out of his ‘fight or flight’ mode and he had leaned back, watching with a slack jaw as Gabriel continued to laugh. Despite being tackled to the floor and pinned underneath Sam, Gabriel had been amused, to say the least._

_“Ooohh Sam! Look at you getting all alpha male assertive and making the first move! I thought you were going to make me have to do all the work here kiddo!” The angel had chuckled, his golden eyes twinkling in delight as he waggled his eyebrows up at Sam. “I wish you would have warned me though—I could have done without the knife play!” Which was fair enough considering the blade had (luckily) ended up embedded in the floor a few inches away from the shorter man’s head._

_Sam, understandably, was less than amused. He was (and still is if the burning heat spreading down his neck is any indication) completely mortified. He had recoiled in horror, at a loss for words at having made such a mistake. He had been expecting Lucifer and had somehow gotten Gabriel instead. It was as baffling as much as it was a complete and utter relief. The only saving grace of the whole situation was the fact Gabriel had found it funny as hell and had just laid there laughing even as Sam scrambled back off him._

_That had been about the point where it had all gone to shit. Sam had barely managed to get straightened up all the way before he registered that Gabriel wasn’t laughing anymore. A glance down had reveled all traces of humor from the archangel had completely dried up—and Sam winced at the memory of watching the laughter slide right off Gabriel’s face. The angel looked like he had been carved in stone, his face impassive as he watched Sam’s stiff movements as he righted himself. “You’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question and there was no denying the barely-contained fury lingering behind those golden eyes as Gabriel stared up at him. Even without knowing for sure what had happened Gabriel somehow knew, and the thought choked Sam like a vice squeezing around his neck._

_Even all these hours later Sam could perfectly recall the feelings of shame that had swept through his body, thick and pungent like bile. The sensation had gagged him, effectively rendering him mute, not that he had a comeback anyway because what was there to say? He was hurt and as much as it was on the tip of his tongue to deny it Sam knew there was no point in it. Gabriel would see right through it, yet he knew that admitting to his hurt, admitting to his failure, would only end up hurting Gabriel more than it hurt him. The memories prickled at the back of his eyelids like tiny, hot pokers that had been lit in a fire and though his eyes watered Sam would be damned (ha, again!) before he gave in and cried. He didn’t deserve to cry; he didn’t deserve the relief the tears would bring and so, had hastily turned away before Gabriel could see how truly fucked up in the head he was._

_It hadn’t worked—not that Sam had thought it would. The archangel was far too observant to just let anything slide past him, no matter how much Sam was hoping it would. Out of everyone he knew Gabriel had been the only one who could read him like an open book, much to Sam’s chagrin. So, really, it was of little surprise when the soft “Sam.” Came from behind him only to be immediately followed by the gentle pressure of Gabriel’s hand resting against Sam’s lower back. Nor was the followed: “Look at me kiddo,” as Gabriel coaxed him, his voice deliberately softened like he was dealing with a skittish animal._

_As much as Sam would outwardly deny it, he had to admit that Gabriel’s approach wasn’t that far off the mark. Given everything that had happened to Sam in the last twenty-four hours (god, it felt like so much longer!) Sam was starting to feel like a skittish animal…though that didn’t mean he had to like being treated as such. Coddling wasn’t the Winchester way, nor was crying about your problems so Gabriel was clearly barking up the wrong tree! Sam wasn’t some fragile creature spun from glass! Sam sighed and shook his head; he had been through so much worse things, so very, very much worse and yet…_

_…and yet as he felt a pair of warm arms come up around his middle (in another time, in another place perhaps he could have found it amusing) Sam couldn’t help but slowly melt into the embrace. Gabriel had never held him like this before, yet Sam was surprised to find it innately calming in a way words couldn’t describe. While the weight of the angel’s arms was like two hot bands pressed against him there was the sense that if he were to pull back to get away Sam would be able to easily. The thought was comforting and more than anything else, that, made him relax even further._

_The words had come tumbling out unbidden then like Sam’s mouth was a faucet he just couldn’t turn off. He hadn’t intended to tell Gabriel any of it yet once he got started Sam couldn’t choke the words back. With a broken voice he recounted the whole thing: his death at the hands of the starved vampires, waking up deep in their underground lair with the horrified realization that he owed his life to none other than Lucifer… The flow of words had come to a strangled halt there as Sam clamped his mouth shut, unwilling and unable to put to words what had come next._

Sam squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the first hot tear escape to slid down his face. Gabriel had brought a hand up to gently cup his face then and just like that the rest of Sam’s pitiful resistance crumbled like tissue paper. The rest of the sordid tale had come tumbling forth and when Sam made to move away when it was all over he was surprised to find Gabriel had tightened his hold. “I’m not letting you go, Sam, never again.” Gabriel had vowed, and Sam couldn’t hold back the tears that began flooding from his eyes in remembrance of the archangel’s earnest face staring up at him.

 

Gabriel’s whole attitude towards what had been one of the worst things to happen to him combined with that impromptu hug had been one of the best damn things to happen in Sam’s life, hands down. Sadly, the fact that he only got to experience it once had left the memory with a distinct sour tang. “Gabriel, I—We—” Sam started only to falter right after, the words drying up in his throat because what was there left to say? The archangel was dead and just like everyone else Sam had ever gotten close to the blame lay square on his shoulders. It wasn’t like he’d gone into the whole mess of the alternate world with blind eyes; he had seen how weakened Gabriel was—hell, _everyone_ had known it—and yet Sam had done absolutely nothing about it. He had just stood there dumbly and watched as Gabriel squared off against Michael. Yeah, Dean had been right there with him and had similarly done nothing, but it wasn’t the same.

 

Sam still didn’t have words to describe the thing, brief though it had been, between him and Gabriel but it had been enough that he could tell the difference between his interactions with the archangel and the interactions between Gabe and his brother. Whatever it was, was fundamentally different—much like Cas’ bond with Dean—so could Sam really be blamed for sobbing into his pillow like a scared child? He honestly had no idea.

 

“You should have run!” Sam choked out for the third time, in between sobs. The words were muffled into the pillow, but he didn’t care…it wasn’t like Gabriel was around to hear him anyway… If anything, that just made the tears run faster because what was the point? Of any of it? Gabriel had suffered seven years of torture and had just begun to come out on the other side and for what? To die pointlessly? It baffled Sam’s mind even as it made his heart ache in his chest. It wasn’t fair. None of it was.

 

Already his mind was off on a tangent while the rest of him tried to recover; there had to be a way to bring the archangel back somehow. There was bound to be a spell or a deal or _something_ because if there was one thing Sam knew it was you didn’t give up on family. Gabriel may have been an unofficial (and possibly reluctant) member but Sam was willing to call him part of the team nonetheless. They may have not gotten the chance to explore whatever it was between them but that didn’t mean hope had to be lost. If nothing else Sam was stubborn, and he had pulled off bigger things than resurrecting a dead archangel before.

 

It wasn’t much but it was a plan, at least. Everything else could be figured out as they went. “You should have run Gabriel….” Sam mumbled into his pillow, exhaustion slurring his words together as sleep pulled him under. “But I’ll find you. I-I’ll bring you back… I promise.”

 


End file.
